August 21st

For the hundredth time, this morning, I think of Ares in his last second. That final uniquely Ares huff of breath. And gone. There is an avalanche of emotion inside me behind it. I can feel it. Feel it threatening to unleash in a wave that blows me away, a tiny speck amongst an immense landslide of chaos. A depth of sadness. Of loss. Of missing him. I have to stop what I am doing. Breathe. Breathe. It is 8 days since I lost him. It can creep up on me. And hit me like a sledgehammer. He's gone. The vet says to me in my memory. And the tears roll in the present. I am sorry Ares.



Third chiro visit yesterday.

I mentioned my face tingles had got worse since treatment, and for the first time in a long time the numb patch on my back had returned. He didn't say anything about it.

Last few days I have been feeling worse. I can come up to normal depth somewhere during the day and stay there for a good chunk of a while. But the evenings I start to crash. The nights are... not good, and the mornings are like the raising of the dead.

I've had trouble swallowing a few times.. again... something I haven't had in months. All in all, it feels like a step back. Hopefully it's just a blip. In the meantime it's making me feel like shit. My eyes this morning have returned to their punched status. Ho hum.

On the whole, it doesn't matter. Whilst I absolutely do not want to suffer, and suffering like I did at the start of the year would be... horrific. Another part of me is ok with declining if that's what it is. I can follow Ares. It's ok.

I spoke to my brother late Friday. He had to put his dog, Chalkie, to sleep.

I told him how sorry I was. Acutely aware that for myself whilst I appreciated everyone being there and the messages - I really do - there is still an aspect of it that you are alone with, that no words can touch and that in all probability I couldnt not help with that either for my brother and his wife.

All you can do is be there I think. Be there if they need you. Remind them people care.

My life at the moment is about as eventful as it gets. And not in a good way. Mentally however, despite all the shit, I'm ok. Ok, I dare say a shrink would strongly disagree. What I mean is. I am not in mental agony. I am ok for me. Rolling with the punches. It's all slightly surreal. Sometimes I imagine a great calm will come, shitty things will stop happening, and life will be - relatively - normal for a while. Flip side I also can see a slow decline, this is my year or two years of bumps and suffering before I peg it. A clear pattern. Just like Ares. 

Who knows. In the meantime, have a cup of tea. Smell the flowers. Carry that weight.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6B224XDJw6g

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